Across the River is a 2018 romantic comedy about first loves, reunited after many years, who must choose whether to go back together or onwards apart.
The walking tour romantic comedy/drama where two potential lovers get to know each other by cruising about the local sites of a (typically famous) city is fast becoming a sub-genre all its own, each fruit from the tree Richard Linklater planted in his 1995 classic Before Sunrise. They’re a curious lot, talky, conversationally-driven films that steer clear of the more traditional fare of the meet cute story in favor of something much more grounded, often dealing with the more thorny issues of love. The latest in the mix is writer/director Warren B. Malone‘s Across the River, a quiet, sentimental little tale of love, loss, and history that finds its footing early and while it will surely feel a little familiar, does exactly as it promises. And then a little more.
In London, Emma (Elizabeth Healey) works as a power lawyer in a rush when she finds that getting about the city during a transit strike isn’t so easy. A bit out of her way after taking the wrong ferry, she ends up in a rather delicate situation where she runs into Ryan (Keir Charles), a guy on the river’s edge trying to make an elephant in the sand. It’s not going so well. Thing is, they aren’t strangers. They were once a couple, years before, and back then, it ended badly, he breaking her heart. What begins awkwardly though leads to a long walk where old feelings resurface, both good and bad, and as they look for a way to get her to where she needs to be, some hard truths have lasting impact.
“Do you know what you want?” It’s an important question that pops up near the end of Across the River, and I really like how it’s asked, answered, and followed, the purposefully narrow story working hard to make you hope it’s one thing while it finds ways to flip it upside down. A thing like this will work only if it feels true, and what Malone does best is write a couple of people who feel exactly that, lived in, a little worn out, not entirely with direction, and most importantly, identifiable. These aren’t contrived characters with meaningless entanglements to pad the story, but believable old lovers who must suddenly come to terms with a past that was left unresolved. What’s interesting though is just how deeply we end up caring about that ourselves.
I’m sidestepping some details of course, with both Emma and Ryan sharing some catch-up stuff that would seem to close some genre-specific possibilities, and indeed, these reveals make a huge difference. However, what Malone manages to do with this is what makes Across the River as smart as it is, like it’s challenging us to think past some of the more obvious un-hurdled roads in most films like this. Indeed, the last two shots are the best in the film, simply because they are absolutely earned. That’s rare.
At about 75 minutes, Across the River hangs in there just long, Malone seemingly recognizing that this really is all the time these two need to get where the story is taking them. Deliberately paced, the two talking nearly the entire length of the film (accompanied by a plunky guitar that might be a little too Indie-on-the-nose), there is still plenty of good humor and stinging heartache to give this momentum. One of my favorite things about the movie is the asides, where, while conversation is still heard on screen, we cut away and witness the two sharing small moments of silent warmth and we have to wonder … is it real or imagined? I like when a movie makes we wonder. Across the River is filled with it.